This Week in Milford

April 20, 2019

The Extra “Y” is for “Y’all come get these hats”

Filed under: Gil Thorp, huge hats — teenchy @ 2:00 pm

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Don’t look now but Jocelynn is suddenly Joycelynn and everybody gets a hat.  Given today’s date I thought they might be Rastafarian caps but I thought wrong, as those are typically crocheted rather than knitted.  At least nobody said “too cool for school” again.

We’ve now had a week of hat love during which time one game was played with a single panel for exposition.  Reckon this is what we get when we complain that the girls don’t get enough attention in this strip.  I can see these hats playing a bigger role in the rest of the story arc, like when the Lady Mudlarks have to forfeit a game for their non-regulation headgear (which, if I’m reading the NFHS softball uniform rules correctly, these are not) and, after much protest and a hostile takeover of Marty Moon’s crate at WDIG, they convince the powers that be to allow them to wear the hats in games but not to reverse the forfeit, leading to their missing the playdowns.

Linda Carr’s been surprisingly quiet through all this. Wonder if she’ll be the turd in the Milford punch bowl that somehow casts a shadow over this lovefest.

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April 19, 2019

Hats Off!

Filed under: Just Plain Awesome, softball — robmize2013 @ 9:14 pm

As Harry Carey would say– Holy cow! Its a rarity for there to be a real happy moment in the middle of a storyline, but this is it. Hats for everyone. And theyre all red, to go along with the red pants and red jerseys. How heartwarming. Oh yeah, hearts are red too!

Thats really gonna be a statement when they all walk into a room with their new fedoras on.. I think its just a rare feel-good moment in a strip that rarely has any until the end of a story, and even then its usually contrived. This is really different in that regard. Team unity should be over the top now.

Of course its possible that there are storm clouds ahead and Whigrub is merely teasing us with good feelings before the inevitable jealousy of some sort creeps in, but I tell ya, I’m gonna enjoy this while it lasts.

April 18, 2019

Will It Sell In Platteview?

Filed under: Mimi Thorp, softball — tdrewhardin @ 8:07 am

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I have a nagging question that won’t go away. Did Thorpiverse rip off an Omaha phone book somewhere from a deserted phone booth off that snaky metal cord and head to the nearest sleazy diner, order a cheeseburger and coffee, and just start going down the list while he’s waiting for his cheeseburger to reach Tums stage? Musta had a helluva pocket knife to sever the cord. Musta been desperate too as us Thorp veterans are used to generic high school names, a Madison here, a Riverton there, not this Pet Shop Boys Worldwide Pony Express/Overland Trail Heritage of Nebraska Tour 2019 route that T-verse is presently employing. Really, who’s next on the schedule? Chimney Rock? Is their nickname the Slaterunners?

Marty Moon at the mike

“And she’s running on the pitch, the throw down to 2nd, and SHE’S OUT!!!!!!!! That’s right, ‘Lark fans, Jocelynn guns down another Slaterunner. They’d be wise not to run on HER arm!!!!!!!!!”

I’ll let you be the judge.

 

We were there…on the Oregon Trail

“Mimi, I called their athletic director. I can maybe squeeze it between New Thayer and Scottsbluff. But lining up the umpires is gonna be dicey.”

“But we can hitch our wagons to their posts?”

“Yes. And the Cartwrights own some property by the bluffs. Got holdings all over the West. Nice little lodge your team can sleep in. I’ll mail the check to Ben Cartwright this week.”

“Tell him that we can take on his Virginia City team and we’re rarin’ to go. I understand Hoss is their coach?”

 

Then there’s the Rockville factor. Back in my home town, Rockville(home of the Dumps), Pringles did a test market survey back in the ’60’s. Well, I think you know where this leads and it isn’t at the Apache Nation where the Lady Mudlarks are scheduled to play next week, complete with exchanging of gifts, peace pipes and beads for Jimi Hendrix hats, one autographed by the same when he was jammin’ with Buddy Miles and Billy Cox on Band of Gypsies.

The trite reasoning was if they’ll munch on those crisp parabola-shaped chips loaded down with more sodium than Gil sprays on his hair every morning, they’ll munch on ’em EVERYWHERE. Yup, even as I text, someone on the Eiffel Tower or in his Maserati going 100MPH on the Golden Gate Bridge or at the South Pole dining with the penguins is munchin’ on Pringles Bar-B-Q or Pringles Cheddar and Sour Cream or Pringles Original (nifty and catchy red design got snackers snackin’, evidently) or Pringles Buffalo Style, all because at one time when the Vietnam War was in full swing, Rockville was indulging in a pop-off cylinder of chips.

 

Rejected lyrics by Country Joe & The Fish

What are we doin’ over in Vietnam

Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn

Watching the Mudlarks beat Grand Island with singles

Here in my lawn chair snarfin’ up Pringles

 

Yeah, I like Pringles but I don’t blame Country Joe for desiring something stronger if we wanted to twist the Administration’s arm on pulling out the troops. We could only go so far with “Congress never declared war on ‘nam” logic.

 

So, yes, this story had a happy ending. Pringles is virtually a multi-national corporation (devouring Pringles Salt & Pepper in Prague, trust me), Rockville got its chips it could virtually call it’s own and city officials even sent a shipment to Platteview. Attaway to pass on the kindness, Rockville. The only hitch was Platteview sent back a case of Pringles Dill Pickle ‘n’ Dijon Ranch. Too many P-view citizenry with acid reflux, they complained.

Ours isn’t a perfect world when promoting Hands Across America.

 

Lookin’ at my watch a 3rd time

Waitin’ in the back lot for the bus

Food was bad, umps no better

We played our game and got a win for us

I know they need to get some pitching and a cleanup hitter to raise a ton of fuss

 

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year

 

Timbuys, Big Guy, I have desperately tried to contact you but my phone evidently won’t send email messages. Sorry to leave you incommunicado and will try to get this fixed. I solved one problem. I can solve others. THANK YOU for all you do for me.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. And His Porsche Overrun By Cattle On The Chisholm Trail!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Suffers minor bruises; Cochran not implicating Lady Mudlarks in lawsuit.”

 

What a sexy combo in P2. Roy Orbison shades and the MTV logo. And this damn concept would sell if they’d quit spelling “Milford” in Vulcan. You can see the letters of the girl’s uniform in the back but you need a lorgnette to read Mimi’s shirt? God forbid this is the modus operandi on an eye chart at Milford Optical.

“Okay, put the cup over your right eye and read the letter I’m pointing to.”

“M…U…C…K…, no wait, start over, M…O…T…H…, ah, a hit, let me try again, M…I…Omega…Gamma…

 

On a late night episode of F Troop on WDIG-TV

“IT IS…..BALLOON!!!!!!”

“No, Chief, it’s just the Lady Mudlarks landing here for a 3-game series. You did remember to get extra tipis, right?”

 

And where IS that girl going in P2? The same place Dagwood’s background people go when Dagwood is cussing out Herb Woodley or Mr. Dithers is cussing out Dagwood (BUMSTEAD, you bumbled that Platteview contract!!!!!!!! I’m docking you a week’s pay!!!!!!!!!!!!!) or Dagwood is cussing out Elmo or Daisy the Dog? Okay, I might be stretching the last one but you old timers, I’m sure, remember when that mass of anonymity would pass by while Blondie would go shopping and Dagwood would be with her and she’d be using Dagwood as a sounding board while deciding what to buy? And the blob would keeping passing by in obscurity until Dagwood (normally) would utter some smartass remark, THEN the blob would all be looking their way. And it was a unique Chic Young (the author) trait, something hard to mimic. The blob, or crowd, would fall flat on their face in B.C. or Prince Valiant or Green Lantern or Dennis the Menace or Buzz Sawyer or Roscoe Sweeney or Ziggy. Hell, Marmaduke would scare off the blob.

But that’s where this poor creature is evidently headed, towards Dagwood Hell to face a life of Sisyphean Blondie-gazing, stuck in Macy’s or Kohl’s or Woolworth’s or K-Mart or Saks 5th Avenue or Milford 5-and-10, or wherever Blondie drags Dagwood around to shop for clothes, destined to be a part of men and women whose only purpose in life is to watch Blondie field Dagwood’s zingers. I know I WOULD get right with God if I knew what the consequences were otherwise.

 

At night I drink myself to sleep

And conjure all the teams

That we have yet to play

Lincoln, Wahoo

It’s a frickin’ holiday

I know it might sound strange to play a squad

That’s known by the moniker, Ogalalla

 

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year

 

Uh oh. Santa and his Reindeer has just pulled up. Okay, Santa, I take back all the things I said about Gil’s hair. Can I have that Lionel Train Set and Matchbox Collection I ask you about when I sat on your lap at the Milford Mall? Surely it’s in that bag SOMEWHERE.

And I remember when I was a kid when I went to my dentist and the 2 things that stand out was his Frank Gorshin-as-Riddler laugh and semi-demeanor and his largesse from the Goody Drawer if we were good boys and girls while he and his dental assistants were undergoing root canal work. I’d get a toy plastic car here, the ones you got free inside a box of, say, Trix or Fruit Loops, or a smiley face there. Nope, couldn’t get Barbie Dolls or GI Joe Action Figures, the Goody Drawer wasn’t big enough, just a little reward for behaving yourself while he was fluoridating your gums.

I think Jocelynn brought along the Goody Bag today. You’ve been such good boys and girls, mainly girls, that you are going to get whatever you like in the bag, even if it’s primarily hats.

Here’s a Mouseketeer hat for you, Linda, a Beetle Bailey cap for you, Jamila, so they’ll never see your eyes when you’re pitching, art of deception, y’know, a Bear Bryant fedora for you, Nancy, Roll Tide Roll, a Patton helmet for you, Mimi, er, Coach, it might jump start a dead battery and cause you to actually lead the team not let Gomer Pyle issue the order to fire in the hills of Africa when Erwin Rommel is coming.

Somewhere in Tunisia

“Pyle ist Dummesel. Ich bin optimistisch.”

“Ja, Sie konnen optimistisch seien. Ich nicht.”

Couldn’t say it better myself, Rommel. Mimi needs to be optimistic AND in charge. Might help the team.

 

So after all the hat-passing, are we going to see any more softball, let alone BASEBALL this year? Or is there going to be another Dances With Wolves powwow, designed to promote Native American relations even if it doesn’t promote sports anytime soon? To quote Stuart Scott, are gonna get jiggy with the plot?

“Chief say we can’t play that weekend. The Great Hunt starts Saturday and men gone all day. Ladies are needed to prepare the cooking. Everybody really hungry and in no mood for softball. We have no problem with following Saturday. We welcome competition.”

I’d have Jocelynn present Gil with a chief headdress but like the true Tatanka that he is, he’s been gone on a Golf Convention down in Florida. Using his Sick Days from school. And he’d look silly anyway with Arnie and the Golden Bear on #4, Dog Leg Right. Hell, Jocelynn, just give him the Slicer/Dicer. He needs to learn how to cut up Julienne Fries anyway when Mimi and the Mudlarks are battling the eskimos in the bottom of the ninth.

 

“T…H…I…S…S…U…C…K…S”

“Sir, you’re reading from USA Today.”

 

It’s not as though we really need this

If it were smut, I wouldn’t read it

And they have played ’bout every town

In Nebraska, up and down

I wonder if that’s how it oughta be

 

Well, I know it might sound strange but I believe we’ll be in Ogallala once again

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year

 

Have at it, Gang. I’m going to see if I can get a Yankees cap. Just to remind me that baseball still exists even when the sport wound up in the Bermuda Triangle when Thorpiverse grabbed a hold of it.

 

“…U…C…K…E…R”

Not bad, but that’s Mimi’s Lee’s label.”

 

“…You’ll wind up on some vacant sand lot

That’s full-time filth

And nowhere else to go…”

 

April 17, 2019

Even A Blind High-five Finds a Nut Now and Then

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“That’s the most uncool thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Wait, what? We live in a place where ease up is part of the local lingo and that’s the most uncool thing you’ve ever heard? That’s almost as uncool as you trying to high-five me with your eyes closed!”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks for not leaving me hanging.”

Speaking of hanging, it’s time to check in on the Coaches Thorp and see what they’re up to when they’re not at Milford High. Quelle surprise, there they are with drinks in their hands again. Mimi seems flummoxed by the idea that kids these days can empathize with one another over something other than the sports team they play on together.  Maybe empathy’s not dead after all.  Maybe she can convince the girls to channel some of that empathy into being a cohesive unit. Maybe she keeps Gil around because of his 46-inch inseam and the Bob Lanier-like boats stuck to the end of it.

April 16, 2019

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better, Including Hat-Making And Pepper.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 9:04 am

 

 

 

 

Everybody wants to rule the world. Yes, that’s the unofficial theme for today’s post after a Lady Mudlark suggested dropping out of school and plying their wares for the good of Mankind. Why stop at blowing off scrimmage? Why not just declare outright truancy and just skip school and sell hats at a roadside stand somewhere on the outskirts of Milford along with the tomatoes, squash, New Thayer County melons, jowl bacon in a jar, grape jelly in a jar big enough to fit Gil’s hair, Milford Valley Homemade Peanut Butter, and the coup-de-grace, that painting of those dogs playing poker, cigars and all. Wearing one of Jocelynn’s hats, no doubt.

Who knows? They’ll make enough money to attend Milford Community College, where they can talk about blowing off that History 203 exam(essay exam, naturally), flunk out and sell some more hats. Well, Milford and vicinity will be more stylish, if nothing else.

So to kick it off, you whippersnappers, Joe Walsh has been kind enough to step in and rough up the situation. The album’s a classic, “There Goes The Neighborhood”, the album cover reflecting the current mood. Have at it, Joe

 

So you made a wish

On this falling plot

That’s what you got

 

Whoa, whoa

And here it is

Like it or not

 

And the truth is

Nobody cares

Everybody’s gone

 

It’s so useless

Playing the game

Heaven knows they’re lost

 

And if it takes until the story runs dry

’til the story runs dry

If it takes until the golf season comes to see why

 

Joe Walsh killer guitar riff, we proceed

 

If ya got yore ass fired from yore 3rd shift premium pay 9.13/hour job at the Milford Foundry cuz you wuz caught in the bathroom stall makin’ ball caps with fish or deer designs (“Man, Check out that bass on Kaz’s head.”) on ’em on the sly, cuttin’ inta yore productivity on the assembly line, ya might be a redneck.

 

YEEEEESSSSSSSSS, I GET BY!!!!!!!!!!!!! WITHA LITTLE HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!! FROM!!!! MY!!!!!!! FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!

“Gil, you damn near knocked over our lamp we got on our wedding day!!!!!”

“Sorry, Mimi, everybody down at the Milford Country Club says I sound exactly like Joe Cocker. They said I have all kinds of hidden talents.”

“Well, the next time your hidden talent knocks over the aquarium, your cleaning it up and putting the bluegill back in the tank.”

“BTW, Mimi, you have any VO5 in the cabinet. I was gonna spray my hair until it fizzes out, then comb it every which way, then head to the sauna at the club for 2 hours. I’m a dead ringer for Cocker.”

“Gil, you’ll probably be just plain dead if anybody sees you.”

“Aw, Mimi, I can do an epileptic seizure like Cocker with the best of them. Don’t rain on my parade. Please.”

 

And as Franku has alluded to or just flat out expressed, as much as I appreciate Show and Tell in P1, Thorpiverse is ONCE AGAIN sending us off on another tangent, another Black Hole for which it’s no fun to watch Santa and his reindeer struggle to get back out of (“Rudolph!!!!!! We’ve been sucked in before!!!!!!!!!!!! Can’t you give your nose any more Lumens?????!!!!!!??????”) . Yeah, on Donner, on Blitzen, now Dasher, now Prancer, fer sure. And we could stretch this with the Rosey-Greer-does-needlepoint outlook but, remember, he didn’t do needlepoint on 1st and 10 on Sunday. Nope, didn’t give the opposing quarterback any crochet needles after he sacked his ass for 17 yards that I’m aware of.

“Hey, Deac, your testicles are showing through your jock strap. Want me to sew it up for ya?”

“Greer!!!!!!!!!! I’m in the middle of shootin’ a Dairy Queen commercial!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Cut, cut. Now, Deac, I want you to mention the Chili Fries after you mention going to a bakery…”

What a perfect activity after a win. A quilting bee. For Show and Tell

“Oh look, boys and girls, Babe knitted an afghan with The Iron Horse in the pattern. And he belted 714 home runs today. I think he deserves a Good Job button, don’t you?”

 

 

“You never even called me by my nammmmmeeee.

Well, a coupla friends of mine, Coach Shaw and Steven Goodman, wrote that song and told me that that was the Perfect Country Sing.

I wrote back to both of them and told them it was NOT the Perfect Country Song because it didnt say anything at all about Mama or Trains or Rain or Prison or Pick-up Trucks or Gettin’ Drunk.

They went over to The Bucket where they’re still tryin’ to get their liquor license and let that sink in and piss ’em off and they got ta writin’ like an elephant on a rampage. Finally, after several Bucket Daiquiri Shakes, they sent me back the revised version. I read over it and said, damn, Bucket Daiquiri Shakes ain’t Falls City and the kids may still have to go to Mom’s PTA meetings to drink any but they had  come up with THE PERFECT COUNTRY SONG. And it goes like this

I was drunk at The Bucket

The day my mom got out of prison

And I went to pick her in the rain

But before I could get to Milford Amtrak

In my pick-up truck

She got ran over by a dammed ol’ trainnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Rizk Gets 3 Standing O’s At Milford Girls-a-Go-Go Club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“She sounds like Coe and even has his hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Damn, these strained negations

Feeling 2 foot smalllllll

God, this story crashes

Hidden talent for softballllll??????

 

Guess they made their mind up

Whoa, whoa

Such a shame to wind up

 

In the Valley cellar

Selling chocalate chip

Mired in endless talents

On a sinking ship

 

But I guess they made their mind up

 

 

What a perfect way to lead into my next gripe. The ladies in P2 are getting ridiculous about this. They won a softball game that had its moments, suddenly we’re comparing notes on who can do what when they’re NOT playing softball. Oh, here’s a radical talent. You might wanna hold onto your girlfriend on this one

“Damn, she can CATCH THE BALL!!!!!!!!! Pop-ups in the infield wont be an issue with her at shortstop.”

“She was so quiet. I would have never thought.”

Otherwise, after-game rituals are really not the time to beat your chest and say you can whup anybody’s butt in Chinese checkers. I really wouldn’t mention you can play “Who Are You” by The Who on the Jew’s harp with your harelip. Oh, that oughta be a great duet with you and Keith Moon. A Platinum Album, no question.

“My dog’s better than your dog,

My dog’s better than yours

My dog’s better

Cuz he’s got the Trig table memorized

My dog’s better than yours”

Probably got rewarded with Ken-L Ration after memorizing Sin, then Cosine, etc.

 

Ever’ goddang one of those gloves was a-waggin’

Under the old horseshoe

Tonight, the players chose a leader

Gave Mimi Thorp the screws

 

There were skaters and knitters

And talkers and runners

They had too much to do

They ran off from school

And joined the Legion

Talented in shooting in their Blues

 

I think you get my message for P3 and therefore I will leave you to admire the North by Northwest shot which graces the strip quite frequently. We know one thing. Another one of Linda’s hidden talents is using Colgate.

Shout-out to Ashley Leonard of Louisville, Kentucky. She got approved for her Disability the other day and I couldn’t be happier. You need to be taken care of, Ashley. She is VERY talented at knitting and this BY NO MEANS a hidden talent. She does a lot of intricate patterns, many of your favorite school (UK, UCLA, Florida State, Duke, IU, etc.) and she did one of the US Navy insignia. And I was impressed. Ashley refuses to stop living, getting out and about. Treat her with respect. And get a quilt from her. Her rates are reasonable, trust me.

At the Milford Fun Center Arcade

“Good Lord, Kaz, I didn’t know you could play Pac-Man. You’ve eaten up 1,435 goblins and are at the 23rd level-”

“Gentlemen, we’re closing. Wrap it up.”

“Ah, jeez, one more quarter, puh-leeezze.”

 

“Ya know, some people will stoop to anything to get a license when they need to stick to Burgers and Fries. Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse.

Mr. Absentee Owner of The Bucket has been slingin’ some mud lately and I don’t mean in the stuff you sling at room temperature in the Bucket Moose Tracks Shake. He’s been saying we use threats of intimidation and bullying, to the point of involving the Mafia. If you believe him, I have a Choc-Ola farm over near Oakwood to sell ya cheap. Just pluck a bottle off the tree. What’s more, I don’t speak Italian.

He’s mad because we have the finest selection. of wines and whiskeys with a rotunda at the front of the store with all the Budweiser you’ll ever need. A fountain of paradise. You can lick from the faucet and grab you a case to purchase. Yeah, Mr. AO, try to install THAT by the soda jerk. Don’t want my Bud mixed in with with any hot fudge sundae, thank you very much.

And he can flap his jaws about all these children’s drinks but if I want creme de menthe in a pacifier, I’ll head to Milford Day Care and get one from Keri from her lunchbox. When you want to grow up and smell the Stella Artois, it’s waitin’ on ya by Mike-Sell’s Green Onion Chips. And BTW, if you buy Stella by the pound, ALL Cheetos are BOGO’s, My Friend. Ummmmm, um, Stella and 2 bags of Jalapeno Cheese Curls. With Salsita Dip. It’s like sending Mr. AO in a trunk and letting Sonny Corleone decide where to go when he sneaks by the forest ranger station at the National Forest.

Oops, now don’t get no ideas. I just happen to remember Mr. AO’s horse when the former was in bed. Some things bring back bad memories. But there’s no horse’s heads on all the Martini & Rossi Wines, from Dark Cherry to my favorite, Peach Mango Lite. Hey, if I can enjoy The Good Life and still look like Jack LaLanne, can ya blame me?

But don’t take my word for it or Mr. AO’s either. Come down and see that once you open the door to check out our selection and prices, the car will remain intact. And if you want Daiquiri Pudding Pops in your Happy Meal, you know where The Bucket is located. Suck on your lollipop, go ahead.

Then come down and taste some real drinking, straight from El Dorado. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Do ‘er to ‘er, Gang. I’m gonna go show my hidden talent to the baseball team, singing “The National Anthem” in Bantu. God, do you realize how long it took to memorize Dative Case?

 

SHE CAME IN THROUGH THE BATHROOM WINDOW

“Gil!!!!!!!!! Come to bed!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Living a life of illusion…

April 15, 2019

Knit One, Plot Zilch

Filed under: huge earrings, huge hats — nedryerson @ 3:38 am

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Jocelynn Brown knit her own hat! That’s what we’re working with today.

So it looks like after a softball games, the girls go back to the locker room and change back into business casual clothes along with all their accessories. Seems a bit extreme. But anything is possible in a world where a slugger and leader knits her own hat.

Will she knit hats for everybody on the team? Will she start a hat knitting seminar series where she teaches the other players to knit their own hats? Let’s all head down to the Yarn Barn and we can learn about fiber. Scrimmage? No, thanks.

Knitting is a magical thing. All those mysterious, repetitive hand movements with pointy implements making an infinite number of loops, turning yarn into a textile. In the popular culture I consumed as a youth, a knitter was usually an old lady who would chant “knit one, purl two” as she worked those needles. Sometimes, they had their own sheep.

 

April 13, 2019

Slugger, Leader, Hat Model

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Fellow TWIM bloggers, where are you going for the color version of the strip?  I used to use the Seattle PI comics page but it looks like it might be behind a paywall now and just accessed it again (thanks to loyal TWIMer Downpuppy).  If one of you find it, could you please update this post with a copy?  Check out Jocelynn’s hat in living color.

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That is some serious Carmen Miranda-level shit going on right there.  Somehow I doubt she got a free bowl of soup with it.

This wraps up what has been a long week – five strips to play one game.  Something tells me we’ll see two or three games in a single strip more than once and hey, what about those Mudlark boys?  Been kinda nice not hearing about them.  Kinda nice for Mimi to play cheerleader and not field leader, though that may prove problematic down the line.

A couple of odds and ends to bring today’s post to a close:

We carp about playdowns in the Thorpiverse but I only found out recently that here in Pennsylvania we have high school playbacks!  In multiple sports even!  Best as I can tell, they’re kinda like double elimination rounds where you can play your way back into the state playoffs.

Finally, in stumbling around looking for a color version of today’s strip I stumbled upon this blog, which concisely summed up the BRobby Howry arc in far drier fashion than we did here.  Maybe that’s where all of Jason’s readers wandered off to…

 

April 12, 2019

Stretching the field

Filed under: actual action, anatomically implausible — robmize2013 @ 8:46 pm

Lets start with P3 first– the first sackers foot is way too far on the bag; it should be on the corner so as to shorten the throw as much as possible. That IS the correct foot however for a lefty. Rightys use their right foot. And the baserunner is running way inside the baseline and is in position to run smack dab into the 1st baseman. Thats why the baseline is in foul territory. Also, in high school, they use safety bases at first, which are placed in foul territory to mimimize collisions such as what is coming in P3.

P2 the toss from short should be underhanded and I never saw such an arm angle as that one. Try throwing underhand with your elbow pointed that way and you’ll flip the ball either way to the right of the target or straight up in the air. She must be double jointed.  Also the 2nd baseman needs to stretch her arm out to get the ball instead of again waiting for the ball to come to her.  Plus that mitt looks more like a catchers mitt.

Not much wrong with P1. Nice win but god did it take a while.

 

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